Yesterday I accompanied my sixteen year old daughter and her friend from school on a build for Habitat for Humanity. They're girlie-girls to an extent, but also athletes on the track team. They have pretty cushy lives, and though I wouldn't say they seek it out, they aren't afraid of hard work.
And hard work it was. Because we were the least skilled laborers to show up for the day, we were sent to a site where the concrete hadn't yet been poured for the four homes that will be built there. Our first task was to move a large pile of bricks onto a pallet. We quickly sorted ourselves into a routine to handle the job efficiently.
We were next assigned to shovel and spread sand all over the soon-to-be garage areas until it was x inches deep. If you haven't picked up a shovel in a while, let me remind you: they're heavy even before they're filled with sand. By the time we were halfway done, it was 97 degrees. There was no shade and the girls were starting to flag. I was glad to have the energy to keep going, although I'd barely slept 4 hours the previous night.
I was proud of the girls. They voiced a few complaints, mostly through their laughter, but they completed the job. With any luck on the next build, the heaviest thing they'll have to lift will be a hammer.